For Honchell, there is no permeation without partition. Her drawings, for example, both conjure and disrupt partitions in a single gesture, rendering undulant lines whose ripples and creases make for a thousand frangible delineations. What is being delineated, however, is as uncertain and suggestive as the wavering, stratifying lines themselves. Like dream imagery, Honchell’s drawings are overdetermined, an amalgam of sources and sites, not reducible to any single one. But if the traces of the artist’s hand in these drawings make anything certain, it is the presence and prevalence of touch itself. For Honchell, palpability is inseparable from the act of creation; drawing is a form of touch, an engagement with materials and a way of imaginatively palpating the body’s inner geography. With their brightly corporeal palates—visceral pinks and reds, bilious greens and browns, a range of fluidic hues—and their intestinal curls, recursive kinks, and the suggestion of burgeoning carbuncles, the drawings have all the sparkle and flow of a body’s internal architecture, rendered in cross-sections or in strange bundles. This is drawing as an extension of touch.